How to Cease Our Striving

Do you know what it’s like to let out a sigh of relief when a burden or weight is lifted from your mind? The heavy heart is replaced with a light one. The jaw unclenches and the furrowed brow relaxes. Was it a burden you were conscious of carrying in the first place? We carry the weight of expectations, the worry of an uncertain future, and the excessive pressure put on us by ourselves or others. Sometimes we’re not even aware of these burdens that drag behind us like invisible weights making each step a little more cumbersome. 

Distracted From the Burden

Last weekend I spent an afternoon with my husband painting the ceiling of our back porch. I held a container of paint in one hand and a brush in the other. Stopping for a break, I found it took effort to uncurl my fingers from their grasp on the paint jar. My hand cramped and my fingers rebelled from straightening. While painting, I had zero awareness that my hand was working so hard to hold on to that paint can. The distractions of edging and dripping and finding missed spots kept my attention away from my hand and all the hard work it was doing. Even though I wasn’t noticing it, the tightness, the clenching of joints, and the strain on my body was real.

My example is a physical one, but we also do this in mental, emotional, and spiritual ways. We strive towards success, we strain to keep up in the comparison game, we push to meet the needs of those around us, and we tense up with the exertion of it all. While we can distract ourselves from the discomfort for a time, eventually we bump up against something that brings attention to our long-ignored sore spot. When we turn to inspect the discomfort, we have a choice. We can cling to it harder, fearing what will become of us without the effort to which we’ve grown accustomed. Or, in freedom, we can set down our striving. We can set it down, drop our shoulders, take a deep breath, and let God’s peace wash over us.

A Lighter Heart

On Sunday, I read a tribute written by John Piper about his father, Bill Piper. Toward the middle of the article, I experienced one of those lifts of heart. The words I read reminded me of truth I already knew. They revealed the weight I was needlessly carrying around. Here’s what John said.

“I grew up in a home where it was assumed we would not smoke, or drink, or gamble, or play cards, or dance, or go to movies. We were fundamentalists. So, why didn’t I kick against this growing up? I think I know why. My mother and my father were the happiest people I have ever known.”

I read on about John’s parents and their commitment to hold worldly pleasures at arm’s length while enjoying a life of joy and purpose. As I read, I recognized my own striving to add, add, add things to my life in search of something better. I don’t hold to the fundamentalist restrictions. I love playing cards, dancing, and going to the movies, but that’s really beside the point. John reminded me I don’t need more stuff or more experiences to find fulfillment and contentment.

My Hope for Us

Dear reader, this is one of my greatest hopes for you and me—that we could cut through the noise, the chaos, the overwhelm and find joy and peace right where we are because God is with us. Let’s lay down our striving after someone else’s idea of success and happiness. Set it down. Take a breath. And notice how much lighter you feel.

"Let’s lay down our striving after someone else’s idea of success and happiness. Set it down. Take a breath. And notice how much lighter you feel." Share on X

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